


a little less conversation

by alamorn



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Multi, Oral Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, more talking than sex even when the sex is actually happening tbh, somehow still pwp tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 23:36:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11542797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alamorn/pseuds/alamorn
Summary: Everyone handles threesomes differently. Sherlock handles them with no subtlety whatsoever. It works out anyway.





	a little less conversation

Joan isn't attracted to Sherlock, per se. Half of it's principle -- she doesn't go for white men almost as a rule (too many bad habits to teach out of them, and while Sherlock is more aware of his privilege than most white men, he's even more arrogant than most), she doesn't go for coworkers or former patients, and she absolutely doesn't sleep with people that she's rooming with. Half of it's that he looks like an angry turtle when he gets frustrated, and he's frustrated a lot.

She's not _not_ attracted to him though. Joan has always been into competence, and he keeps himself very fit. If he didn't talk, she could probably have sex with him.

What she is, is attracted to Marcus -- yes he's a coworker, but have you _seen_ him? -- And Marcus, at the Christmas party she bullied Sherlock into taking her to, a few drinks in, starts angling for a threesome.

Sherlock's sober, and Joan is pleasantly tipsy at best, and Marcus says something flirty, making eye contact with both of them so intense that Joan's face heats. She glances at Sherlock, and there's something calculating in his eyes, and then he bulls through like he does all social niceties.

"Detective, if you are on a break with your girlfriend and looking for rebound sex, I'm happy to offer my own services. Watson will decide for herself, of course, but as her--" and he smiles, thin, almost mean, "sober companion, I cannot slip away for an assignation without her."

"Well," Marcus says, blinking, and raises his champagne flute to his lips to buy time. "I should have expected that."

Joan takes another sip of her own champagne. Marcus is wearing a purple dress shirt, tight enough that the bulge of his bicep is somewhat distracting. What she knows of Sherlock's sexual preferences-- far too much, honestly -- is not incompatible with her own. And, well. It's been a while, and Marcus is really very good looking. "I could be persuaded to head home early," she says, with a slow blink and a smile curving her lips.

Sherlock claps his hands together. "Excellent. I'm sure this will be enjoyable for the all of us. Will you be accompanying us home, or slipping away later to deflect suspicion?"

Marcus laughs. "Oh, I don't think I could. There's been a pool going since you joined the department."

 

When they get in the door, Joan pauses, suddenly uncertain. Sherlock seems to feel no such thing and heads directly for his bedroom, leaving his shoes by the door and stalking silently off in his socked feet.

Joan leans over to slide her pumps off and Marcus catches her elbow to help her balance. She glances up at him through her lashes, and then, when she straightens, she leans up to kiss him. Marcus kisses as well as she could have ever allowed herself to imagine. He kisses like he wants to savor the experience. Since Joan _does_ want to savor the experience, that suits her just fine.

“Ahem,” Sherlock says from his open bedroom door. Joan and Marcus separate to look at him. “Unless you two would like to try out the library — quite nice, though possibly a bit complex for a first time threesome — the bed is waiting.”

Joan thinks of going to the library just to be contrary, but she _can’t_ think of how to work three bodies around a ladder, and it seems rude to fuck in Ms. Hudson’s favorite room, so she just shrugs and heads to Sherlock’s bedroom. She looks him up and down. He’s practically vibrating, though she can’t tell if it’s excitement or nerves. Much the same, for Sherlock.

“We’re not kissing,” she tells him, because the idea of kissing _Sherlock_ is somehow inconceivable. She’s about to get naked with him, but kissing seems too intimate somehow.

He shrugs. “As you wish. We have not prepared in anyway for this, so I’m going to say anal is right out. However, I would like to be fucked.”

“Sherlock,” she says, as Marcus comes up behind her and leans on the doorjamb. “Shut up and get on the bed.”

Sherlock blinks, eyes suddenly dark and eager, and hurries to comply. “I always knew you’d be an excellent domme,” he tells her.

“I didn’t say you could speak,” she says, heat starting to curl in her stomach. “Feel free to handcuff yourself if it’ll help you concentrate. Marcus, undress me?” When she speaks to Marcus, she lets her voice turn soft, an ask rather than a demand. When Marcus moves to her back to unzip her dress, she turns her gaze on Sherlock. “You,” she says. “Watch.”

Marcus slides the zipper down slowly, pressing kisses to the revealed skin, and then sliding the dress off her shoulders and down over her hips, until she steps out in her bra and panties.

“Now tell me,” she says, “how do you think this is going to go?”

Sherlock doesn’t bother to look away from where Marcus has shoved her bra up over her breasts and is playing with her nipples. The heat of his gaze mixes well with the warmth of Marcus’ hands. Sherlock has to swallow. “Do you have a strap-on?”

“Yes.”

Marcus makes a considering noise in her ear and starts to nibble on her neck. She melts back into him, very aware that he’s still fully dressed.

“You’ll fuck my face,” Sherlock says eventually. “After making me watch you ride Marcus till you both come.”

“Mm,” she whimpers as Marcus sucks on the join of shoulder to neck. “Tempting, but no. Marcus?”

Marcus stops and hooks his chin over her shoulder. “Yes?”

“Join Sherlock on the bed? And both of you are overdressed.”

When Marcus sits next to Sherlock, she unhooks her bra and shimmies out of her panties. “I don’t feel like getting my strap-on. We’re sticking with what’s in the room.”

“There’s absolutely a strap-on in this room,” Marcus says, laughter turning his voice buttery and warm. Joan smiles at him.

“And I’m not using anyone else’s strap-on. Sherlock wants to be fucked, and I think we should indulge him. You can go down on us both.”

Sherlock has to lick his lips at the thought. Then, with great deliberation, he gets to his knees on the ground.

“Where’s your cuffs?” she asks, as Marcus hurriedly shucks his clothes.

“You mind regulation?” he asks Sherlock, and when Sherlock shakes his head, Marcus tosses her his cuffs.

She catches them and walks over to Sherlock, leaning down to cuff his hands behind his back. “Tell me if your shoulders start hurting, or if you have any tingling, numbness, or discomfort in your hands.”

“I have done this before,” he tells her, but he’s fond rather than arch.

“So have I,” she admits easily. “Indulge me anyway.”

He rolls his hands in the cuffs and she runs a finger around his wrists to check that they aren’t tight enough to cut off blood flow. Then she uses her foot to nudge him into position between Marcus’ knees.

“He likes it rough,” she tells Marcus before she sits next to him to watch with interest.

“How rough are we talking?” Marcus asks, running a hand over Sherlock’s head. Sherlock’s gaze is intent on Marcus’ cock, but he manages to look up at his face for a moment.

“Feel free to hold me down until I choke,” Sherlock says casually, and the thought alone is enough to make Joan’s clit tingle. “I will knock on the floor with my foot if I need to be released. I prefer no pet names. Actually, my preferences for dirty talk are specific enough that they should be a separate conversation, when we are all less aroused. Continue talking to Watson, if it please you.”

Joan has to smirk at that. “Well?” she says, when there’s nothing more coming. “Get to work.”

Marcus lets Sherlock set the pace for a while, and she watches with interest as his head bobs and his tongue flicks and then, when Marcus is starting to breathe a little faster, he curls his hand around the back of Sherlock’s head and pulls him down far enough that he gags.

The pace Marcus sets is much faster, and all the helpless, delighted sounds Sherlock makes are more intriguing than Joan ever thought they would be. She can see Sherlock’s cock bobbing between his thighs, deep red and so hard that pre-come beads at the tip. Without meaning to, her hand starts working between her thighs.

Marcus sees and smiles. “The only thing I can think of right now is ‘Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” Joan agrees. “Kiss me.”

He does, and it’s sloppy, his lips sliding over hers, her teeth catching at his lips. He keeps gasping into her mouth, and then he has to break away to pull Sherlock’s head farther down, and full body shiver.

Sherlock swallows, and Joan watches his throat work with interest. When he pulls away, his face is pink and his expression is satisfied.

“Stand up,” she says before he has a chance to recover. “Lay on the bed.”

He scrambles there.

“Do you need to be uncuffed?”

“No.”

“Good.” She sits on his face without warning or hesitation.

Sherlock does not give the best cunnilingus she’s ever received, but she’s willing to let that slide. He’s been busy, after all.

She leans back to kiss Marcus as he starts to lazily jerk Sherlock off. Sherlock whimpers into her cunt, and the vibration travels all the way up her body. She grinds down into his face until he whimpers again, and come splatters her back.

“Sherlock,” she pants, “you’re cleaning that up.”

And after he makes her come, he does, licks it all up as she lays loose limbed and sated on the bed.

 

She cuddles with Marcus in Sherlock’s bed while Sherlock jets around the kitchen with some ridiculous post-fuck energy, making some sort of drink or dessert. She’s sure she’ll enjoy it when he presents her with it. For now, she’s enjoying Marcus.

“So,” he says, tracing nonsense patterns on her skin.

“So,” she repeats, languid.

“Am I gonna have to worry about Sherlock making this weird over a dead body sometime soon?”

She opens her mouth to say no, then closes it and considers. “It seems likely.”

He tsks, but he’s smiling. “Well, should have expected that.”

“If it helps,” she says, “you can always do it again, really get your humiliation’s worth.”

“I’m good where I am,” he says and smiles at her.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on tumblr @alamorn!


End file.
